


yours, in a trying time

by anarcho-vampirism (lumbercapt)



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Chloe Decker Finds Out, Devil Face (Lucifer TV), Everyone Needs A Hug, Fix-It, Gen, Post-Devil Face Reveal to Chloe Decker, Post-Episode: s03e24 A Devil of My Word, Post-Season/Series 03 Finale, Pre-Relationship, Talking It Out Like Adults, devil therapy, with appearances from Ella and Trixie...the whole gang is here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27933961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumbercapt/pseuds/anarcho-vampirism
Summary: Its skin is burnt and flayed. Flames lick into its eyes. Something below the surface seems to simmer and move. The monster raises a hand to its own face, touches it gently."Oh no," it moans quietly. "No no no, not like this."As Chloe watches, the red skin burns away like paper, leaving the face of her Lucifer behind. And she is afraid.--Alternative beginning of season four, without the timeskips, trips to Italy, murderous priests, or girlfriends from the beginning of time. Focus is on the immediate aftermath of the reveal and the death of Pierce.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Linda Martin & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 158





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> While I love the beginning of season four, what I really wanted to see was Chloe raw and dealing with the truth. They kind of skip that part, and then during what we do see, she's caught up in the next season plot and has an ulterior motive to act like she's fine. Just let women be raw and throw things<3

With a shaking hand, Chloe rubs the area under her collarbone. She's just gotten her breath back, and her whole chest hurts. The skin under where the bullet hit her vest is curiously cold and numb.

"You're safe," she hears, and registers the arms around her. Lucifer.

Chloe pulls herself up, ignoring the pain that flares between her ribs.

"What happened?" she asks, because the dream in her head is most certainly just that, a hallucination in shock from injury. She'll forget the image of  _ wings _ until later, because she is strong, she recovers quickly. They need to plan-

But when she turns around, she is alone.

The sunshine is absolutely blinding. She's on a rooftop helipad, she realizes. There's no need for her to peer over the edge to know that it's  _ dozens  _ of floors above the ground.

Chloe bites her lip, refusing to compute what it all means.

_ Make a plan,  _ she decides. _ Find him. _

Her eyes find the rooftop access, and she runs to it.

Having just run down thirty stories of stairs, Chloe arrives on the first floor panting frantically. Her chest aches, is completely numb under the spot where the bullet hit her vest.

She's desperate to see him, to see Lucifer alright and unharmed but also to squash the dream she had when she was hit.

All she has eyes for is Marcus, prone and bloody, and the suited figure crouched over him.  _ Is he -? Yes, it must be over. _

"Lucifer," she calls, walking towards him.

He stands, and Chloe's fear chokes her mind before he can even set his red eyes on her.

"Detective," the monster greets her calmly.

Its skin is burnt and flayed. Flames lick into its eyes. Something below the surface seems to simmer and move.

Chloe takes a reflexive step back. She can't help but recoil, despite the horrors she's seen in her line of work. The monster before her has  _ his  _ voice.

Oh god.  _ It's all true. _

The monster tilts its head. "Detective?"

Chloe falters back again. Her hands are shaking. "Y-you -" she stutters, before the back of her heel hits the stairs, and she falls into a seat on the third step.

The monster raises a hand to its own face, touches it gently. 

"Oh no," it says, quietly. "No no no, not like this."

As Chloe watches, the red skin burns away like a piece of paper, leaving the face of  _ her  _ Lucifer behind. He looks at her with a face of pure grief.

There is a flash of white as he disappears, and then Chloe is alone again.

Her heart pounds. Marcus' body is sprawled on the floor, and she finds herself pulled towards it, falling on her knees next to him.

She can't pretend she loves this face anymore. But the sight of it, stilled and staring, makes her sorrowful, makes her sickly. It's too intense to make sense.

She weeps over him.

When she can clear her own eyes again, she shuts his, so gently. She stares at the knife in his chest, memorizing it. The blood is on the floor and soaking into knees of her jeans.

The knife, she recognizes. It's one of Maze's.

Chloe wraps her fingers around the hilt, and pulls it out.

_ It's over, _ she reminds herself, and stands. Marcus is dead and she is safe and L- he made sure of it.

All around the room, there are feathers. She's confused, for a moment, until she remembers her dream. Bending down, Chloe grabs one at her feet. It's bloody, bent and damaged. In her dream, she was surrounded by white light.

She can't think the words, but she knows it belongs to Lucifer.

She has the knife in one hand and the feather in the other, and she hasn't put either down since she picked them up. Her home has never felt like such flimsy protection. A few layers of drywall, plastic cladding. Chloe locks both locks on the front door after she lets herself in, intensely grateful Trixie isn't here to see her in this state. Then she goes around, checking every window lock.

Hysteria overcomes her for a brief moment. Insane. What's the point? Demons are real. She's seen Maze in action. A demon has a fucking _key_ _to her apartment._ A locked door will mean nothing to the things she's afraid of now.

Chloe has never been one to drink away her problems, but right now seems like an excellent time to start. There's a bottle of some white in a cupboard. It's warm; this is the least of her problems. She can't get the burning face out of her head.

Does is hurt him?

It's impossible to reconcile  _ her  _ Lucifer with - with  _ the _ Lucifer, the  _ actual  _ Devil. She'd always thought of all the Devil talk as just that: talk. It would have been insane not to! It was an eccentricity, a quirk. She'd played it down for so long, she'd come to see the delusion as almost normal. A severe delusion, to be sure, but not a problem, just another part of him, really. She'd be lying if she hadn't secretly hoped Lucifer would tell her who he  _ really  _ was one day.

Now that he had, she wanted to scream. He'd told her, so many times, who he was. The absolute, full truth, straight to her face. He'd wanted her to know, but every time had stopped short of proving it. He'd done it just the other day, after a precious moment of vulnerability. The real facade is not an injured man calling himself the devil to live with himself, but the actual devil, calling himself a man.

Chloe settles into the couch with her laptop and the bottle of wine. She keeps the knife and the feather close by: they are her proof. She realizes she's been here before, typing  _ lucifer  _ into google for answers. This time is not the indulgence of an errant  _ what if?,  _ though.

The results are familiar knowledge: he's evil incarnate, but also the morning star. An angel, who fell when he defied God. She knows all this, already, but it hits different this time,  _ knowing  _ without doubt. And yet she knows nothing at all; as many sites want to tell her that he is beautiful and radiant as tell her he is evil, infecting, soul-hungry.

She pushes her laptop away from herself, sickened. Time to forgo the opinions of history for her own, first hand account.

He's violent. It's the first strike against him that comes to mind. But… she can't help but make a correction.

_ I punish the guilty, Detective. _

Sometimes it seems like the wrongs they witness at work affect him more than they do her.

She's seen him strung out and exhausted. She's seen him save her life, time and time again.

_ No one chooses to be a sin-eater, Detective. _

Chloe throws her head back in frustration. There are too many recollections for her to recast with her new knowledge. She doesn't even know how to start making sense of everything they've done together. Why hadn't she paid attention to all the stupid, impossible, insane things he had always told her?

In the morning, Chloe wakes on the sofa, fully dressed. Her eyes are puffy, and head aches almost as much as her collarbone. Her laptop is still open in her lap, and she sits up. On the table, the open bottle of wine, half empty, and Maze's knife. Picking it up, she scrapes absently at the blood dried on it, desiring it be clean, its acts undone.

There's a rap on the door, and Chloe jumps to her feet, heart going a mile a minute. What if it's him?

She creeps silently to the door, peering through the peekhole. There's a teenager in a polo shirt, pen behind his ear and holding a red bouquet.

Chloe leaves the chain locked, and opens the door a crack.

"Yes?"

"Hi, delivery for Chloe Decker?"

"That's me. Just… leave them there."

When he's down the path and out of sight, Chloe opens the door and grabs the flowers quickly before sealing herself inside again.

She stares at them blankly for a long moment. Red orchids. They're pretty.

_ He's sending me flowers. _

_ The - the devil is sending me flowers. _

She puts the wrapped bouquet down on the counter, and fills a vase with water. From the junk drawer she finds a sachet of flower food. She doesn't know what else to do but take care of them. The particles of flower food sprinkle in to the water, some dissolving, some collecting at the bottom. She pulls the flowers out of their wrapping, noticing for the first time the note between the blossoms.

_ "Yours, heedfully, in a trying time,"  _ it reads.

The flowers really brighten up her gray kitchen.

Chloe grabs up her phone, intent on distraction. It's been sitting on the counter since she got home yesterday. Most of a day ago. There's three missed calls from Dan, and another from Ella.

Crap. They've probably found Marcus by now, and the room of inexplicable bloody feathers. She's glad she took the knife with her. Maybe she should hide it.

She owes Dan and Ella answers, but she doesn't have any. The department is going to want a statement.

She calls Dan back anyways.

"I'm okay," she says the moment she hears the line pick up.

"Oh, thank god."

_ Not quite. _ They're both quiet for a moment.

"So, what happened?" he asks her, and she tells him the most barebones version.

"It was a trap. Marcus tried to ambush us, but Lucifer got us out and… finished it."

"So Pierce is dead?"

"Yeah."

Dan lets out a gutteral noise of relief, or pain. "Good. Good riddance. That dick can rot in hell." Dan is right. But it's hard to hear. There's an audible gulp on the other end of the line. "Is Lucifer- are you guys together? Where are you?"

"No, I'm home. Lucifer is - I don't know where he is, he left really fast." The urge to keep Dan away from Lucifer right now is strong. "I think what happened, uh, really scared him," she lies. "I know we need to give statements, I'll give you mine, but just. Give him a couple of days, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. I guess I owe him, for... yeah. Okay. Um, everything's a mess down here, nobody knows what's going on. There's time."

Chloe frowns into the receiver. "What? Are you at the precinct? Dan, go home."

"I will. When I'm done."

"This is going to blow up in our faces, Dan. I need you to rest and grieve before that."

"Nah. I told you, it's a huge mess here. It's all going to shake out now that that fucking… bastard is gone. It's gonna be okay, alright?"

"I'm worried about  _ you. _ "

"I'm fine, Chlo. Worry about yourself, okay? I gotta - I gotta run." He hangs up on her.

At night, she goes to Lux. She's done this before, too, gone to spy on Lucifer in his own kingdom. The bouncer knows her to see, lets her in immediately. She asks him not to tell anyone she's there.

"Planning a surprise?" he asks with a grin.

Chloe fakes a laugh, and ducks inside.

The music pumps. People dance on platforms, and enthusiasm wafts from the crowd as people move. From the mezzanine above it all, she looks to the piano, sweeps her eyes over the bar, and scans the crowd. It looks like he's not here.

It's not a rational decision, but Chloe descends the stairs of the club on the shaky assumption of Lucifer's absence. She's got her hair down and an unremarkable black dress on, hoping to be thoroughly ignored by all. She takes an empty booth with a good view of the room, unsure what she's watching for.

The people here are happy, and safe enough. Really, it isn't different from any other club.

After some time, Chloe spots a familiar face.

"Linda!" she calls, suddenly desperate to talk. She leaves her table to push her way towards the bar. "Linda!"

"Oh hi, Chloe! How are you?"

The sight of her friend is a balm. Chloe almost wants to ask the woman for a hug.

"You're not dressed for a night out," she comments instead.

Linda shrugs. "Well, I'm not really planning to stay. I was just going to have a word with Lucifer, I haven't been able to reach him. It's good to see you!"

"Yeah, you too," says Chloe hazily, because she is suddenly realizing Linda isn't  _ just _ Linda; she's the Devil's own therapist. Does she even  _ know? _

There must be something in her expression, because suddenly Linda is looking at her with concern. "Chloe, did something happen with you two?" 

There's no sane way to put it - all Chloe can do is nod. Linda grabs her elbow, and pulls her to an empty bar stool. She orders a martini for herself, and an ice water for Chloe.

When they have their drinks in hand - and the bartender knows them, won't let Linda pay although she insists on tipping - Linda asks, "so. What's going on?"

Chloe takes a deep breath. "What do you… what do you think of Lucifer? I mean, I know you can't talk about a patient like that, but…"

Linda listens thoughtfully. "Well, yes, but I am his friend, and your friend, too," she starts.

"I just mean, you're his therapist. You've known him as long as I have, so you must know him better than basically anyone." Chloe swallows. "Do you think… that he's  _ good _ ?"

Linda puts her drink down, and gives Chloe an appraising look. "Lucifer is a very complicated person. He sees things very differently than most people, and sometimes acts very differently. But at his core, he needs the same things as everyone else. Love. Acceptance. A place in life. He's found a lot of these things for the first time in his life recently, and it's changed him, a lot. And yes, to answer your question, I think he is good, even though he might not agree with me. More importantly, I think he  _ wants  _ to be good. And a lot of that has to do with you, Chloe."

He wants to be good. Isn't that the best anyone can hope for?

"I didn't do anything," she says honestly.

"You're his friend," Linda tells her kindly. "You didn't have to."

"Oh."

Linda slides her martini towards Chloe. "I'm not on the clock, so I'm allowed to give you this. If you'll excuse me, I've got to see a man about a missed therapy session."

"No!" Chloe gasps, and grabs for Linda's arm. She can't go see him, worse, alone.

"Chloe...?"

She rips her arm away, feigning casual. "Oh I just, I don't think he's home, you know, you should try… later…" she covers lamely, and attempts a smile.

Linda glances guiltily towards the elevator.

"Look. I have to go upstairs. You stay right here, and I will be back in ten minutes, okay? You don't have to be alone right now."

Chloe nods, again, watching forlornly as Linda climbs the stairs and disappears into the elevator. On her way to meet the Devil.


	2. Chapter 2

If he designed bandages, they'd be black with a matte finish, Lucifer thinks idly while perusing a rack of convenience store first aid supplies. Up at the front, he places down baby wipes and a box of bandaids.

He pulls a bill out of his wallet. It sticks to Pierce's blood on his hands.

The teenager behind the till is staring at him. Lucifer glances down, remembering suddenly that he's been shot, is still wearing a shirt with half a dozen obvious bullet holes in the front of it. Humans don't like evidence of violence; it scares them. He does up his blazer.

"Right, keep the change," he mutters, lacking the will to engage. He stuffs the bandaids into a pants pocket and makes himself scarce. Outside, he cleans his hands as best he can with the wipes, and throws the whole mess down on the ground, disgusted.

Chloe's face, shocked and afraid, looms large in his mind. Her face is one made for happiness, for soft frowns over paperwork, for barely-there smirks. His is made for torment, and now he's gone and shown it to her and ruined _everything._

A woman twenty feet ahead sees him and immediately crosses the street. People are looking at him. He doesn't like being looked at, not in this way, not with _fear_.

His wings won't unfurl; they are too painful, too damaged, and the rush that came alongside destroying Pierce has utterly deserted him.

Grounded and carless, Lucifer drinks heavily from his flask and resigns himself to a very long walk home.

_Ding._

The elevator noise pierces the dark penthouse. Lucifer doesn't move, hasn't in hours, hardly cares he has a visitor. If it's anybody he doesn't like, well, he'll just show them his devil face, and they'll never bother him again, will they?

He's occupied the sofa continuously since this morning, when he ordered the flowers for the detective and immediately regretted it. She'll just throw them away. She'll fear them by association with him, because he hurt her, because he's wretched, a monster.

"Lucifer," Linda calls out to him. "Lucifer, are you here?"

"Here," he mumbles, and rolls over to see the doctor rounding the end of the couch. Ugh. What day is it? He should have known the doctor would come to chase him down eventually.

"I couldn't reach you after you missed our session, so I came to see if you were alright," Linda says.

Lucifer groans in answer.

" _Are_ you alright?" Linda's eyes are starting to adjust; something is all over the floor.

They're _feathers._

"Oh, Lucifer," Linda whispers. "You're injured."

"It's not a flesh wound, doctor. They'll be like that until they're not anymore."

"Riiight. Because they're angel wings. Okay, I'm going to call Amenadiel," Linda says, pulling out her phone.

"He's not here."

Linda keeps dialing, puts the phone up to her ear. "What do you mean?" she whispers, covering the receiver.

"He left with Charlotte."

A quizzical look takes over Linda's face.

"Ah," says Lucifer. He pulls himself into a sitting position, runs a hand through his greasy hair. Wishes he weren't still dressed in a suit shot half to rags to deliver _this_ news. "No one's looped you in, have they. Perhaps I should have supposed it would fall to me. Well, Charlotte's been… Charlotte is no longer with us."

Linda lowers the phone. He can hear it ringing and ringing.

Suddenly, she grips his arm. "Lucifer." Her eyes are so wide. "I - Amenadiel?"

"Oh! No, he's quite alright. Angel, remember, doctor. Please don't forget to breathe. He's got his wings back, he went home."

Lucifer gestures for Linda to sit down on the couch, and she sinks into it.

"Welcome to the emotional crisis couch," he says, and resumes the curled up position he's spent the last night and day in.

"Emotional crisis couch?" Linda asks, and Lucifer feels the couch shift. She's facing him. "This isn't only about Charlotte," she prompts.

Lucifer doesn't answer.

"You're not in danger, are you?" Linda tries a guess.

Lucifer scoffs. "No, doctor, _I'm_ not in danger."

"Okay, that's good. Is anyone else…?"

"Well I don't know, doctor. Maybe _you're_ the one in danger. You are sitting next to evil itself, after all. Who knows what could happen!"

Both are silent for a long moment. Then Linda reaches out a hand, and places it on Lucifer's shoulder.

He stiffens. When the hand stays steady, he turns to look at her.

Linda's eyes are serious with concern. "Lucifer. Please. Take a shower. Eat something. Try to sleep. And come see me tomorrow. I will make sure you have a time slot."

"Okay," Lucifer agrees, quietly.

Lucifer remains still as Linda leaves. It's late, really really late, or maybe early when he finally peels himself off the couch and stumbles into the shower. He turns it up as hot as he can stand, hissing when the spray gets into his cut.

Halfway through cleaning himself up though, he loses the burst of energy that got him here. He hasn't slept properly in two days, is bone tired.

Lucifer barely towels off before tumbling naked into bed. He pulls the blankets all the way over his head, shivering as water, soap and blood soak into the sheets.

In the morning, light reaches into the penthouse and wakes him gently. He reaches out to it, letting it play on his hand. Then he wakes up more fully, recalls the night before, and his tiny moment of pleasure is gone.

Feeling the mess he left himself last night, Lucifer peels back the bedding and sighs. His silk sheets are ruined. It would have been better if he hadn't tried to fix himself up at all, and just slept in his clothes.

But it's alright. Lucifer strips the bed, throws the sheets in a heap on the floor, and goes to take a real shower.

He's still grooming, half dressed, when his phone buzzes. He's doing his utmost today, purely because he wants to and not because he has anything to prove after last night. The text is from Linda, which is good because he's already decided to definitely go to see her today, just as she asked. To make sure she's alright, of course.

**Doctor 🛋️🤯**

<< Cleared my schedule from 11-12:30. Would be very good to see you in today, Lucifer. >>

<< 😈💬🙅🧩>>

<< I see a speech bubble, so you are coming to talk? >>

<< Yes 11 on the dot, wouldn't miss it for the world. >>

<< Great, see you then. >>

"Lucifer, you look better this morning," is the first thing Linda says to him when he opens her door without warning at 10:58am.

He flashes a very convincing smile her way. "Well, why wouldn't I? Carpe diem, as they say. Do they still say that?"

"They do," Linda says patiently, and gestures to her couch.

When they are settled, she fixes him a look.

"I'd like it if you told me what happened to you last night."

"Why, nothing I couldn't recover from all on my own. As you can see, I am quite fine." With a slight flourish, Lucifer straightens his blazer.

"You called it an 'emotional crisis.'"

Linda finds Lucifer's gaze, and holds it. After a few seconds, he breaks.

"...Fine! Fine, alright, you got me," he says, his hands raised in surrender. "I was not having a good night last night."

Lucifer pours himself a very tall glass of water, takes an extra several moments to settle back into the couch, and crosses his legs.

He sighs. "You remember Cain, the lieutenant? Went by Pierce?"

"Of course. Last you told me, Chloe had broken up with him."

"Right, well. I killed him."

It takes Linda a few moments to absorb his words, and then her eyes pop all the way open, real wide. "Lucifer!" she whispers loudly, aghast.

He takes a sip from his water and sets it down a little too forcefully. "In my defense, he did try to kill me first. Also, he's the one who killed Charlotte Richards, and, oh yeah, he _shot the detective!"_

"What? Pierce shot Chloe?"

"Yes. But I shielded us, and carried her out… then I went back and finished it."

"Oh, Lucifer. That must have been incredibly scary."

"...Yes."

"But Chloe's alright now, isn't she? Did something else happen?"

Lucifer looks at Linda quizzically. "Wait, how did you know she's alright?"

"Oh, I spoke with Chloe last night. But Lucifer, you need to tell me what _happened_." Linda is still alarmed at the news.

"Doctor," Lucifer leans in, his voice dripping with honey and mojo. "Come now, you want to tell me about the detective, don't you?" It's been quite literally years since he's manipulated Linda in this way… _Desperate times..._

"She… seemed troubled. She wanted to talk to me about you, actually."

"And what did she ask you? It's important, I promise, so you really should tell me."

"Lucifer, I want… the reins back on our session, please."

Lucifer douses his mojo immediately, flustered. "Sorry. I'm just - worried."

"Alright. We can talk about Chloe. Yesterday, she and I ran into each other. We only spoke for a few minutes, but like I said, she was worried about you."

"Worried? About _me?"_ Lucifer asks, flabbergasted.

"Mmhmm. She asked me for my opinion on you, and I tried to remind her that, while you can be very complicated to understand, you are still just a man."

Lucifer scoffs. "I'm not _just_ anything, doctor."

His casual arrogance makes Linda smile. "Lucifer, I've gotten to know you well in the last few years, and Amenadiel too. And I'm reminded, again and again that, while yes, you are incredibly powerful, ancient celestial beings… You're still just people. _I_ think, when they say that you and I were made in your father's image, it doesn't just mean we both have arms and legs. You're a lot more human than I think even _you_ realize… Just with a few extra bells and whistles."

Lucifer actually laughs. " _That_ is ridiculous. But it doesn't matter. You saw the detective; how did she seem? Was she nervous? Shaken?"

"She's alright, Lucifer. She's been shot before and survived, remember? Chloe is a very strong person."

"Yes, well, the thing about what she saw, is that personal strength tends not to matter." His face is sour.

"And what _did_ she see?"

Lucifer holds up a finger. "How about, I tell you what happened instead. You were keen on that a moment ago, no?"

"You're avoiding things, Lucifer. But, we have lots of time today, so if you'd like to start at the beginning, then yes. Let's hear it."

And so Lucifer recounts: Charlotte's death, Dan's revelation, the secret investigation, the ambush. He gets right up to Pierce's death, relishing in the fact that his _entirely deserved_ eternity in hell will already be well underway, and then stops short.

"The knife."

"Hm?"

"I left the knife at the scene, the knife Pierce brought and I killed him with." Lucifer rises to his feet. "Well, doctor, thank you for this, but it turns out I have an errand to run."

"Lucifer, it can't wait a half hour?"

"It certainly can't," he says. "That knife can kill me, and not just when the detective is near. Such things have a nasty tendency of turning up at the worst times, and I'd rather not lose track of it."

"Alright, well, call me when you're ready." Lucifer is pulling the door open. "I'm glad you came in today!" Linda calls after him, and sighs. The more the devil changes, the more he stays the same.

Outside, Lucifer dials his phone while striding towards his car.

"Daniel, my darling douche," he drawls when it picks up. "I need a favour."

Lucifer walks into the station, eyes peeled for the detective. From the mezzanine, he spots Dan leaning over someone's desk, examining a stack of files.

"Hello, Daniel," he says over Dan's shoulder, and dodges the resulting flinch.

"Oh, it's you," Dan says, deflating quickly. He hasn't done his hair like he always does, and there's a pudding stain on the front of his shirt. "Jesus dude, you didn't need to sneak up like that."

"Agree to disagree," Lucifer says pleasantly. "Should you really be working right now?"

Dan is thrown for a loop - Lucifer never cares how he's doing. "Uh, I'm fine... It's good that you're here. We need to collect your statement."

"Ah, yes, and as I said on the phone, I am also in need a favour."

Dan looks at him with irritation. "I'm not doing that whole 'deal with the devil' thing with you. They know it was self defense with Pierce, but they're gonna stop thinking that if you don't cooperate. Your statement is not optional."

The _audacity._ "Fine," says Lucifer.

"But if it's that important, just tell me what you want."

"Very well. I left something at the scene, and I'd like it back."

Dan gawks at him. "What, you mean like _evidence?_ No way, dude, that is not happening."

"Well then would you just _look_ and tell me if it's there or not?" If it is, he'll get Maze to steal it back. She's quite a good thief, and it is hers, after all.

Dan is disgruntled, has started moving files around on the desk. "I guess," he says. "What is it?"

Lucifer describes Maze's knife in detail, leaving out the more interesting facts about it, like its having been forged in hell and its unusual ability to harm the devil.

"You know what?," Dan asks when Lucifer is finished. "I do want something from you, actually. I want you to tell me what the hell your deal is."

"You don't know what you're asking for, Daniel," says Lucifer, expression darkening.

"I think I do, actually. You knew stuff about Pierce way before the rest of us. You were all buddy buddy with him a couple of months ago. You have some really serious explaining to do, man." Dan gets in closer, speaking in a hush. "And I want more than whatever smoothed-over shit you're going to tell the department." They separate.

Lucifer regards Daniel for a moment. The man isn't weak; he's been through almost as much as his detective, and is still stubbornly demanding answers. Besides, he thinks, it won't matter if Daniel can't handle the truth, because Lucifer has already ruined things with Chloe. His time here is already over.

He pulls himself up tall. "Very well then, Daniel. If you can tell me where my knife is, I will tell you my side of the story. Deal?"

"Deal," Dan says, rolling his eyes. "And hey, you should go see Chloe, she's in interrogation giving her statement right now. She was worried about you."

Daniel claps Lucifer on the shoulder and fades away.

Chloe is _here_.

He sweeps quickly towards interrogation, desperate to see how she is now that the opportunity has arisen.

There's no one else in the observation room. Lucifer shuts the door behind him quietly, and locks it. On the other side of the glass, the detective is seated facing him, opposite someone he doesn't recognize. Both are dressed casually.

Lucifer places his hands on the glass.

"Something didn't feel right when we walked in there," the detective is explaining. "Marcus, he was waiting for us. We walked _right_ into his trap. And he was going to kill us, for figuring out his identity. So I tried to shield Lucifer, because I thought Marcus wouldn't be willing to hurt me, you know, I thought he still cared that much. But I guess… he didn't.

"I tried to shoot first. I'm not sure if I even hit him. He got me, but I was wearing a vest." She pulls aside the collar of her shirt, revealing a nasty bruise. "Then I was out for a while. Lucifer pulled me out of the way."

"Did Mr. Morningstar tell you that's what he did, or is that how you remember it?"

"No, I remember him, um, holding me. It's just fuzzy, I… Yeah. Eventually I got up, and then I found them. Marcus, he was on the ground. There was so much blood, I knew he was dead. And Lucifer, he… he-" She breaks off.

"It's alright, Detective Decker. Do you want to take a break?"

Chloe nods, and they scrape their chairs back on the concrete floor and file out.

Still up close against the glass, Lucifer lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. It fogs up. _She's okay. She's functional. She's talking about it - Linda would say that that's important…_

His thoughts, suddenly hopeful that the detective might be alright in his absence, are interrupted by a banging on the door of the room.

Dan's voice wafts through. "Lucifer? You in there?"

Lucifer sighs with frustration, and goes to wrench the door open. "What is it, Daniel?"

Dan pushes past him into the room. "Okay, so I checked, and your knife's not in evidence."

Another blow. "Well, that's disappointing, but thank you anyways, Detective Douche." He makes to leave, but Dan isn't finished with him yet.

"Hey! You owe me answers."

Lucifer turns on his heel, expression acidic. "And _why_ would you think that?"

"I thought we made a deal? Or is all that 'my word is my bond' stuff just crap after all?"

Lucifer is indignant. "No, the deal was I would tell you my story if you could tell me where my knife was. Since you can't, the deal is off. Goodbye."

"Man, fuck you," Dan calls after him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the month long gap between chapters, I know a couple of people have subscribed for updates! I'm a slow writer and a slower editor, but chapter three is here. And because I got excited while writing, chapter four is already mostly written. So because I'm still not working full time, you should see this fic finished before the decade is over, maybe even before I become fluent in french and marry someone hot. (Just giving myself some wiggle room on that deadline).  
> -gemma :)

Chloe watches with surprise as Linda descends the stairs back into Lux, looking neither like she's been incinerated in a column of hellfire, nor been made a demon's chew toy. She saw Lucifer, and now she's coming back to talk, just like she said she would.

"You're okay," states Chloe dumbly when Linda has jumped back up onto her barstool.

"Me? Oh, I'm good," Linda says, but her face is worried.

Linda has had all of a minute in the elevator to consider what, if anything, she should tell Chloe about the mess of a man hiding upstairs. She doesn't even know if the difficult nights Chloe and Lucifer are both having are even  _ connected _ . The normal line of professionalism between her and her patients has been thin since the beginning with Lucifer, and navigating that has never been easy, but tonight it feels like she's being tested.

Chloe asks her something that can't be heard over the music, and Linda gestures for her to lean in closer.

"How was he?"

_ He's really bad. _ "He's... having a tough night."

Chloe nods. She should have expected he would be angry. "Does he ever scare you?"

Linda takes a moment to answer, always thoughtful. "Sometimes, the things he shares with me scare me. But, I'm still glad he chooses to tell me, because I wouldn't be able to do my job if he didn't tell me those things."

"And he's never told you anything that made you… not want to help him anymore?"  


"No, never."

For a moment, they just regard the crowd. It's grown since the evening started, full of strangers with smiles plastered all over them.

"You are really really good at that."

Linda looks at Chloe, puzzled. "At what?"

"Making things seem simpler."

This nets her a smile from her friend. "I do try," Linda says, and with a tip of her glass, finishes her drink.

Chloe goes home pondering whether Lucifer can be both the devil, and the man she knows.

Bright and early the morning after Lux, Mama Decker brings Trixie home from her week with Grandma, and Chloe buries her little girl in a hug. 

"I missed you so much, monkey," she whispers into Trixie's hair. The hug doesn't last long; Trixies is too excited to be home and tell her mom all about her weekend to keep still. Smiling, Chloe sends her to unpack her things, and stands up to thank her own mom.

"Don't even think of it," Penelope says graciously. "Just tell me that whatever you were dealing with last week is over, honey, you had me worried."

"It is," Chloe assures her, although she's omitting the fact that new problems have taken their place.

When her mother has gone, Chloe pokes her head into Trixie's room to find her on the floor with a book and some toys. It's a child's game Chloe is too grown up to understand, but that her daughter is  _ happy _ is beyond clear. And so is she for a brief moment, because despite the semi-single co-parent thing she has going on, there are people around her she can rely on to keep her daughter safe.

Even Lucifer has helped keep Trixie safe, she realizes with a jolt. And it seems crazy, that her daughter has met the  _ devil _ . Likes him, even, and now plays contentedly on the floor, completely unaware. He saved her.

When Chloe starts to think about it again, she swings Trixie's door shut quietly and moves to the kitchen. She won't have these thoughts in the same room as her daughter, refuses to recall those events around her daughter like they might inadvertently be willed back into being. Trixie in Malcolm's hands, being hunted… they almost  _ died _ , they probably would have, if Lucifer hadn't interrupted Malcolm's plans. If Lucifer hadn't  _ died  _ for them.

Chloe stares into the flowers he sent her, still sitting on her counter, which have not yet begun to wilt. He'd said he  _ died _ that night. Impulsively, she pulls a petal off one of the blossoms and feels the waxy texture on her thumb. He really does care, she thinks. Even if he's too harsh with suspects sometimes. Even if he never follows the rules. Because they're not real rules to him… he's not even a human person… 

And then she remembers that it's just Lucifer, who likes his coffee fortified with whiskey and too many sugar packets. Chloe rubs her eyes really hard like it's going to wipe everything that's confusing from her memory, and returns to Trixie's room.

"You know monkey, I really missed you," she says from the doorway. Trixie looks up at her and beams. "Do you want to go to the diner for a special breakfast, and then I'll drop you off at school fashionably late?"

The resulting squeal of excitement is a clear yes, and Chloe leaves Trixie to assemble her school things.

While she waits, Chloe puts her shoes on and checks her purse for the sanity-confirming presence of the knife that killed Marcus. She toys with Lucifer's feather in her hands, and thinks, at least now that Marcus is dead she won't have to listen to anymore of Lucifer's paranoid delusions about him. But then she remembers what she's holding and the world spins a little. The other week when Lucifer had driven himself to exhaustion and let a few more tall tales slip than usual, he'd called Marcus  _ Cain. _ Like, from the  _ bible. _

"What's that?" Trixie says, entering, shoes and backpack equipped.

Chloe realizes the feather has floated out of her hands and down to the floor. She scrambles to grab it before her inquisitive child can investigate, desperate to keep her separate. She clutches a feather like it is underwear, or a bottle of pills: something to hide. "It's nothing, sweetie."

Trixie looks up at her mom. "You're acting weird," she says matter-of-factly.

Chloe knows she is seen, even if Trixie isn't old enough to recognize what a good brain-scrambling like Chloe's looks like. But she hasn't gone out of her way to spend all the time she can with her daughter only to expect her  _ not _ to know her well. "I'm not sure, exactly," she says of the feather. "But I think it might be something precious."

She allows herself to admire the feather for a moment more. Even with the broken vanes and a bit of grime, something seems to shine from inside it that makes it beautiful anyways. Chloe tucks it in amongst the bouquet of orchids, because in her mind they belong together. It seems to take on the flowers' red colour in the morning light.

"Well, it looks like a big feather," says Trixie. The words are easy for her, and she's right. Chloe reaches out for her daughter's hand, and Trixie leads them out the door.

After downing an impressive heap of chocolate pancakes, Trixie makes it to school in time for morning recess. She declares it "the best day ever" before barreling into the field to join the hoards at play. Chloe lets the school office know her daughter is now present, and then goes to sit in her car.

She's giving her statement today, and needs to think about what she's going to say. What really happened can't go on the official record, obviously.  _ My ex-fiance - you know, Lieutenant Cain? - shot me, Lucifer protected us from a hail of gunfire with his wings, and then we escaped by flying. _ How on earth is she supposed to explain that away? No wonder Lucifer doesn't lie. Lies like this apparently require a lot of work.

At the precinct, she greets Dan. It's been a long time since she's had an urge to take care of him the way she suddenly wants to, but he just looks so tired. When she tries to tell him to go home again, he brushes it off, so she changes subjects.

"My mom dropped Trixie off with me this morning, and I'm gonna pick her up from school when I'm done here. I can keep her this week, unless you want to see her?"

Dan wrings his hands a little bit. "I do, but… I don't want to scare her by acting weird or something."

"Just come over and see her then. For an hour, or stay for dinner. We're here for you."

"Okay. Okay, sure."

They switch gears to their work selves. Dan goes off to find someone to take her statement, and that is pretty much all she's here for, so Chloe sits down at her desk to wait. She almost expects someone to come and tell her its not hers anymore, that she's been too irresponsible, gone to far outside the law and should just clear the desk out. But there is no one to do so, or if there is an interim Lieutenant appointed, they don't make an appearance. 

While she waits at her desk, people keep stopping to talk to her. The secret investigation seems to be common knowledge already, but she's not really surprised. Between Pierce's absence, and the atmosphere of uncertainty that fills the station, the rumours, however they got out, must be easy to believe. Everyone seems to want her to confirm for them that their own Lieutenant really was the Sinnerman. And they all want to know if Lucifer really killed him. Some of her interrogators seem pretty genuine about wanting to shake Lucifer's hand. A few seem cross, like they can't believe it and are just looking for Lucifer so they can invite him out back to get punched in the face.

Chloe tries not to share any details that people don't already seem to know. This is going to be like Lucifer's own Palmetto, she thinks. Maybe worse, since Pierce was more than just a detective. She can see it now: the next few months will be spent taking rude comments from coworkers and probably doing a lot of grunt work while their investigation of Piece gets, well, investigated. Lucifer doesn't care what people think of him, so maybe, she hopes, he'll just find all the rude behaviour funny. Then again, some of them will surely be rude to her, too, so she might be spending a lot of time pulling Lucifer away from people who insult her before he turns them into a gibbering pile of apologies.

And then again she remembers what Lucifer really is, and realizes that no, she won't be doing any of that. And she's sad. Argh. There it is again, the nauseating back and forth between normal things and insane things. There won't be any petty workplace drama for Lucifer, and he won't be getting stuck on paperwork duty with her. Because he's the  _ devil.  _

"Detective Decker?"

Chloe looks up. Her thoughts were interrupted by a uniformed stranger. They shake hands, and Chloe follows her statement-taker through the precinct, schooling her face and thoughts into focus.

By late afternoon, Chloe is home and helping Trixie with her science homework on dinosaurs. Pterodactyl is spelled funny, and she isn't thinking about Lucifer. Then the doorbell rings, so she leaves Trixie to it and pulls herself up from the living room rug to get the door.

"Hey, Decker!"

"Oh hi, Ella," Chloe says. She's surprised to see her - they're friends, absolutely, but not quite the type that show up on each other's front step unannounced.

"So, is this a good time? I know it's kinda random, just showing up, but I've got a message for you."

"A message…?" Chloe asks.

"Yep! Can I come in though? It's pretty roasty out here."

Ella's right, the day is a scorcher. Slightly embarrassed, Chloe clears the way and then shuts the door behind her guest.

Trixie is in the living room playing, and perks up when she sees who it is.

"Come say hi, monkey," Chloe calls, and Trixie roars over.

Ella grins down at her, proferring a hand for a high five. "Did you know that some dinosaurs were as tall a house?" Trixie bubbles over.

"I did know that. Pretty cool, right?" Ella replies. They swap a few dinosaur facts before Chloe reluctantly stops them and sends Trixie to play in her room, where she won't overhear… whatever this is.

"So, this message," Chloe prompts, as she takes two glasses out of a kitchen cupboard. She's facing away from Ella when she makes her guess. "It's from Lucifer, isn't it."

Ella plops down on a kitchen stool, feet dangling. "Bingo. Something is really off between you guys, huh."

Chloe fills their glasses with cold water and brings them to the counter, standing on the other side from Ella. "Yeah. I'm just… digesting something," she says vaguely. Absentmindedly, she notices a dry petal amongst the orchids and reaches in to pull it out.

"Is it -" Ella switches to a whisper, "is it because he, y'know, killed Pierce?"

Chloe clears her throat. "No?" she says, thinking about it. "No, it's really not. Just bad timing on something else."

"Right, okay! Because you know I'm really glad you're alive even if Lucifer had to like…" Ella makes a stabby gesture.

And that is easy enough to agree with.

"Anyways! You probably want to hear this. I hope it's not going to like, freak you out. He called me a 'neutral party' and I mean, I have no idea what that means… but you sure seem to." Ella side-eyes her friend.

Something occurs to Chloe. "So, you don't know," Chloe questions as vaguely as possible. "Like,  _ know  _ know…?"

"That's what I said," Ella says, eyebrows crooked as she tries to understand her question.

Chloe clears her throat. "Right, sorry." Of course Ella doesn't know Lucifer is the devil. It's not like he goes around  _ proving  _ his outlandish claims. "So uh, what did Lucifer say?"

"Yeah, so, he came into the evidence lab earlier, all broody, you know how he gets. We talked for a bit, about, you know, the whole Charlotte thing. How bad that went. I'm only telling you that part because he was like, totally stalling on why he was really there. So I tell him to spill it, and he asks me for a favour! And you know, I'm kinda surprised after what I put him through last time, but he seemed pretty keen on it-"

Chloe waves Ella's train of thought to a stop. "Wait, wait, what do you mean, last time?"

"Oh. He asked me for a favour once before. Ages ago. And I totally didn't mind helping him out, but you know Lucifer, never drops character, the whole devil, deals thing. So I asked him to go to church with me. I thought it might be good for him, you know, 'cause bible stuff obviously means a lot to him. Was not a great call on my part."

"He was angry with you," Chloe assumes.

"No, more like really sad, actually," Ella says. "I felt bad, I think it brought up some difficult stuff for him. I mean, I thought he was just worried about it being boring when he complained, but then it ended up being kind of serious! Anyways, this time I'm like, no way am I repeating that disaster. So I just told him he'd owe me, and like, hopefully he'll forget about it." Ella smiles, satisfied like she's presenting a winning science project.

Chloe tries not to let her awe show through her expression. Ella made a deal with the devil. But that's not quite right. The devil made a deal with Ella. She's got an IOU from the devil, and no idea of the power she holds.

"Anyways, enough of me blabbering away your whole day!" Ella is saying. "You wanna hear this message or not?"

Chloe sits up a little straighter. "Okay. Let's hear it."

"So, there's two parts. First, he says he's sorry you didn't hear it from him, and under better circumstances. Not really sure what he's talking about, but hopefully you do."

Chloe nods.

"Clearly, you do. Okay. And the second part is that if you want to see him, he'll be at the beach tomorrow if you want to see him. Up to you." Ella shares with her the specific place. Then she leans forward, eager. " _ So _ , are you gonna go?"

Chloe bites her lip.

Suddenly, Ella sits up and slaps the counter. "Oh! I'm not gonna like, report back to him or anything!" she gushes. "Message delivered. And you don't have to tell me either, I mean I just showed up here and I think I dropped a bomb. You need to think, I get it. I am already out the door." Ella stands up, aiming herself towards the door as if to prove it.

"It's okay. Really. I'm just not sure what I'm gonna do yet. It's…" Ugh. She draws her hands down the sides of her face, struggling to describe.

"Complicated?" Ella offers.

"So complicated," Chloe agrees. And they can almost laugh about it.

"Well, I'm here for you, Decker," Ella says, and Chloe believes her.

"Hey, why don't you stay?"

Ella already has one shoe on, is poised like a flamingo as she tries to tie the laces of her sneaker without sitting down. "Stay, like, for dinner?"

"Yeah! And, Dan is coming too, or at least I think he is? It's just been a lot, lately, and we were all, you know, involved, so maybe having some company would be good." For Dan, for her. Even Ella. They're all a little broken right now. "For everybody."

Ella pulls her shoe off and throws her arms around Chloe. "You are so right. Oh my gosh! Dinner party!"

They chat about more neutral topics while Chloe puts dinner together. Chloe has to admit it's really nice having her friend here. She's never had Ella over for dinner before, but it just feels so  _ normal _ , and she soaks it in.

Dan arrives, and an hour later, everything is on the table. Trixie's excitement at having guests is palpable; Ella may have been right to call the night a party. Dan is able to convince Trixie to eat all her broccoli, and Chloe reminds her to carry her plate to the sink before she zooms off to play and leaves the adults to talk.

"Not that I'm complaining, but why isn't Lucifer here?" Dan asks Chloe. "I thought he'd be glued to you. You know he kind of freaks out whenever you get hurt."

Chloe looks up at Dan, opens her mouth, closes it.

Ella watches her slackjaw for a moment and then jumps to the rescue. "He's uh, dealing with something… at Lux! Yeah, there's um. A liquor sale."

"At his own club?"

"Yep. Wholesale." Ella nods exaggeratedly, her head moving a comical distance up and down. "You know Lucifer and a good deal, it's like a match made in heaven, right?" Ella completes the routine with a fake sounding laugh.

Facepalm. Chloe had forgotten what a terrible liar Ella is.

Dan looks from Ella to Chloe. "Did something else happen that I don't know about?"

"Nah," goes Ella, at the same time Chloe says "yes."

"O...kay," Dan says, and he lifts his fork to his face, abandoning all inquiry.

Chloe breaks the silence a moment later. "It's personal."

"Got it."

"It doesn't have anything to do with the investigation. Just bad timing."

"Did he try something?" Dan asks with trepidation.

Her reply trips off her tongue almost of its own accord. "You know him better than that, Dan." And Chloe is surprised at herself, but it's true. Even with what she knows now, she's sure Lucifer would never hurt her.

Dan shrugs. "Yeah, I guess you're right. He just pissed me off today, is all."

"Wait, you saw him?" Chloe sits bolt upright, dinner forgotten. Dan doesn't  _ seem _ any worse off than earlier for his conversation with the devil.

Dan takes in her reaction. "Yeah, you didn't? He was at the precinct. I told him you were there."

"No, I didn't… Why was he talking to you?"

Dan rolls his eyes. "He wanted a favour. He was looking for some weird knife of his, had me check in evidence for it. Then he just took off without telling me anything. Typical."

Some knife. Some weird knife, like the one she pulled out of Pierce's chest?

"He didn't even give his statement," Dan complains.

"Well, he's got a lot on his mind right now. What with Pierce, and, um… everything," Chloe says, struggling to defend him without the real explanation.  _ What with being found out as the devil and all. _

"I just don't want him to go off and do something stupid that ruins the inquiry for us. There's a lot at stake here, and he never takes anything seriously."

Ella jumps in to defend her friend. "Dude! Lucifer is the reason Chloe is even here alive right now! Yeah, he screwed up a bit, but he still saw us through. I mean, I don't know if I could have done what he did."

Dan sighs. "You're right. You're right." He wants to argue, but he can't bring himself to start it with the two people he knows are probably Lucifer's staunchest defenders. "Look, I have my issues with the guy, but I don't want him to go off the deep end. I just mean, he's not great at coping with stuff, and he just killed a guy he was friends with for a while. He's gonna do something really stupid and I don't want whatever that is to screw things up for you… Or himself," he amends quickly seeing Ella's irritation.

"You say that like he just ruins things. I can't believe you would talk about him like that behind his back," Ella says hotly.

Chloe pushes her chair back and stands, putting her hands on the table. Dan swallows whatever response he was about to spit out. "Enough." She takes a deep breath. "I will go see Lucifer tomorrow. I'll make sure he doesn't do anything rash, and-" she looks from Dan to Ella, "I will  _ try _ to resolve our issue. No promises."

Dan nods, satisfied. Ella gives a nervous smile, forever the cheerleader. With their support, Chloe's decision feels final. Suddenly her mouth is full of butterflies.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the final chapter! Are you ready to rumble? *coughs* I mean, are you ready for lots of talking it out like adults?

"So,  _ now _ will you tell me what happened?" asks Linda, looking regal in her therapist's chair. Her legs are crossed, and one high heel bobs minutely in the air. This is their second session in one day, but Lucifer wouldn't be here, pushing her other patients out the door, if it weren't important.

"Nothing world-ending," Lucifer says with a smile. "Really, I've still got a club to run, people to see, people to  _ do _ , as well, so if it wasn't quite clear, I am just dandy."

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine." Linda's used to this dance, where Lucifer insists over and over again that he's fine, until he recognizes it for the lie it is. "But, you're still here, and we both know you have no problems with getting up and leaving when you want to."

Lucifer is still wearing his signature smirk. It's such a mask for him, it's almost like a second… or well, third face.

Linda tries again. "This morning, you were telling me about the investigation into Charlotte's death. You left quite abruptly after you told me you killed Pierce."

"In self defense, of course."

Linda nods. "Yes. Because of your actions, you and Chloe were both able to leave a dangerous situation."

"And that's a problem…?"

"No, of course not. But I know you rarely miss our sessions, and I found you injured and upset the other night. That leads me to believe this situation was different."

"Well, it wasn't the  _ situation  _ that did it," Lucifer mutters.

"No?"

"It was… me."

"What was you?"

Lucifer takes a deep breath. "While I was fighting with Pierce, my devil face returned. I didn't realize it at first, but… I was punishing him."

"I see. And that bothers you."

"He deserved his punishment, and I brought it to him. It only made sense I look the part, I suppose."

"Okay. What happened next?"

This has been the sticking point of the story, so far. Linda's gotten all the details up until Pierce's death, and then Lucifer clams up or runs off.

"My devil face," he begins. "It's not just a set of features, a place to put two devilish eyes and a nose. It has a purpose."

"Right. You wear it to delineate between when you are doing something you feel you've been forced into, such as ruling hell-" she holds one hand out to the left "-and when you're living your own life according to your free will." She gestures to the right, weighing each hand.

"What? No," says Lucifer, offended.

She doesn't push it. "So, once Pierce was dead, you realized your devil face had come out."

"No. I didn't notice."

Linda tilts her head to the side thoughtfully. "No? Help me understand."

Lucifer takes another steadying breath. "I left the detective on the roof. Far enough away for me to be invulnerable while I dealt with Pierce. I suppose I thought she would stay there, and I would collect her afterwards and perhaps she would allow me to apologize, to  _ explain _ … But of course, like she would let getting  _ shot _ stop her." He scoffs. "Of course she came running." Like he should have known better.

Realization dawns on Linda. "Chloe saw your devil face," she finally connects, and is filled with sympathy for Lucifer - for his self hatred, for his complicated identity, for the reputation he does not deserve but ultimately clings to.

"This can be a good thing, if you let it," she says gently.

Lucifer shakes his head. "Its entire purpose is to inspire fear, doctor. It's a  _ weapon _ , and I used it on her." His expression is dejected, pleading with Linda to understand, and give up on it all, too. She meets his gaze, and holds it.

"Lucifer, you didn't harm Chloe."

He scoffs. "Did you not hear me? She saw me, saw my true face!"

"So have I! Seeing your face for the first time was difficult, yes, but you didn't hurt me, Lucifer, which is how I know you didn't hurt Chloe."

Lucifer pulls his gaze away, speaking quietly to some interesting spot on the rug. "No… No, this is different."

"Tell me how?"

Lucifer laughs a miserable laugh. "I didn't show it to her after she me asked nicely, doctor. She found a  _ monster  _ standing over the body of her bloody fiance! I couldn't have arranged it better if I was hand picking her hell loop." And he shudders. The detective is never going to hell, but that hardly matters: he's brought it right to her.

"Okay," says Linda. "Okay, I hear you. You're right, it's different with Chloe."

Lucifer leans forward, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. Quietly, Linda stands, walking around the low table. She sits down on the end of the couch, where she can be closer, but still give Lucifer his space. She nudges her therapist's box of tissues to be within his reach.

"I don't think you should write Chloe off," Linda says quietly. "And I'm not saying that the way forward is easy, or guaranteed, but there is a very real possibility that with some explaining, and some time, Chloe will still want you in her life."

Lucifer sniffs, barely audible. "How can you even  _ presume  _ to know-"

"I  _ don't  _ know, Lucifer. Of course I don't. All I'm saying is that neither do  _ you, _ " Linda says patiently.

"I suppose - I suppose that's true," Lucifer relents. And when he pulls his face out of his hands, his palms and cheeks are wet with smeared tears.

Linda smiles softly her best understanding therapist smile. "You're feeling scared, and vulnerable, so you're acting as if Chloe's already rejected you, when that isn't the case. It's an understandable reaction. But there's no chance of her coming around if you don't accept the possibility that she might not, and then allow yourself to be vulnerable to that rejection. You need to give her a chance to speak her mind."

"I'm not  _ scared, _ " Lucifer huffs.

"It's okay if you are," Linda reminds him. But he isn't listening.

"You are right, though," he says, a million miles away. He taps a finger on his chin, thinking. " _ Vulnerable, _ I am. Specifically, to the detective."

Linda recognizes Lucifer's 'I have found the solution to all my problems' face immediately.

"I meant  _ emotionally, _ " she stresses.

" _ And _ physically! Which  _ means,  _ the detective has nothing to be afraid of!"

"Right, but is fear the only thing you think Chloe might be feeling?"

"Well, not once I inform her!" Lucifer exclaims. He's excited now, looking more than a little manic with his red - and not in a devilish way - eyes and contrasting bright expression. "I'm just as killable as any old human to the detective. I've just got to figure out the best way to illustrate my vulnerability for her, and then we should be all dandy. Thank you, doctor, truly…" Lucifer babbles as he unseats himself, then realizes Linda is in between him and the door and starts rounding the table the other way.

Linda jumps to her feet. "Lucifer! Please don't ask Chloe to harm you," she asks bluntly, feeling this once like she really ought to intervene.

"But how else to prove-"

" _ Or _ hurt yourself. You don't need to do that, and in fact, I think you shouldn't."

Lucifer looks at her with something like shock.

"Please, stay and listen to me for just two more minutes. If you still want to do whatever it is you're planning, then by all means, I won't stand in your way. Just please, two minutes."

Linda watches him warily as his excitement tempers into crossness. "...Fine, alright! I suppose that is what I'm here for."

"Okay. Thank you, Lucifer. Thank you for staying. Okay. Well, it's normally my job to help you come to conclusions on your own, but these are… extremely unusual circumstances. So I'm just going to tell you as plainly as I can what I think Chloe is going through.

"You may be right that you scared Chloe, but she also cares about you. And, she is a person capable of feeling and believing many things at once - even things that might conflict with one another. Such as, she could be scared of you  _ and _ not want you to be hurt, at the same time."

"But that doesn't make any bloody sense," Lucifer interrupts.

"Plenty of things in life don't make sense," says Linda. "But if you approach it right, you can help Chloe make sense of this, and reconcile what she's learned about you. Chloe now knows that you are the devil, but what she  _ doesn't  _ know is what that really means. I know I don't have to tell you how many untrue stories there are about the devil - but Chloe doesn't know that. And maybe if she did, then it would be easier for her to understand how you can be the ruler of hell, and also enjoy working alongside her at a human job."

"Retired ruler," Lucifer says reflexively.

"Of course," Linda says, ever patient. "Look, Lucifer. She's confused. She's probably feeling every emotion in the book. You can't fix that for her; so, just be there, so she can sort it out with the truth, instead of having to guess at what's hearsay."

"Just… be there."

"Yes. Just be there," Linda confirms.

"But… What if she doesn't want me there? If she fears me, why wouldn't she just send me away?"

"Then let her know that you're available, and give her space. There is no special course of action that guarantees a perfect outcome. Chloe has to figure out how to understand what she saw for herself; you can't do it for her. You can only make it easier by being kind and understanding."

"Just be there," Lucifer echoes.

"Exactly."

Linda still stands by the door, and Lucifer across from her by the bookshelves at the far end of the room. Space that never seems to get used.

"I'll go find out if she'll see me," says Lucifer.

Linda smiles. "That sounds great."

Lucifer nods. He looks a bit shell shocked, and doesn't move another inch until Linda opens the door for him.

"Keep me in the loop, if you can," Linda requests as he departs. "Good luck, Lucifer."

He leaves wordlessly.

Alone in her office, Linda sighs, worried. Lucifer has never been subtle, and she's not so confident that he'll stick to her suggestion of "just be there." Chloe carries a gun. But Linda takes a breath in, and a breath out, and lets the worst case scenarios leave her mind. Her eyes fall shut, and she brings her hands together in a steeple, pointed towards the heavens.

_I know I'm not normally the praying type,_ _but if you could grease the wheels for Lucifer and Chloe a bit - if that's even how this works, I'd be very grateful. They need each other. Um, that's all, I guess. Thank you._

She's never gripped the steering wheel this tight, Chloe is pretty sure. She's never been a high anxiety person, and her job has, for lack of a better word, desensitized her to all kinds of awkward and stressful interactions. She can't count on two hands how many times she's given a death notification, been yelled at by a person of interest, or pointed her gun at an arrestee. Maybe it all used to get to her, but she's been in homicide long enough to learn to distance herself.

Yet, she can't seem to do that now. Feeling the sweat under her palms, Chloe readjusts her grip and makes a poorly signaled merge off the highway, trying not to think. She's used to having no expectations, or having expectations dashed, when approaching suspects. They're guilty, or they're not. They're useful, or they're not. Lucifer doesn't fit into her boxes. He's not a suspect, and Chloe isn't on a case. But that doesn't stop her from feeling like she's about to enter a hostile interrogation.

What does he even want?

Her, probably, she thinks. And she misses him, too.

Last night, after Ella departed and Dan had tucked Trixie in and gone home too, Chloe had laid in bed feeling completely wired. Thinking about her meeting with the devil.  _ It's just Lucifer _ , she reminds herself. Immature, overdressed Lucifer. Not red-eyed, devil Lucifer.

Her list of questions, scrawled through the night in the fleeting moments of wakefulness between bouts REM sleep, is in her jeans pocket.  _ how old are you? what happens to the people you make deals with? _ are some of the questions. Others are less sensical. One line just says,  _ HELL?,  _ and the paper is ripped on the H where she pressed too hard, trying to write in the dark.  _ red burn face?  _ It's all much less tidy than her scribbliest case notes.

It's a rare cloudy day when Chloe pulls into the parking lot, and the beach is not busy. She pulls right up to the edge of the sand, pops on the emergency break, and sits.

The beach is an appropriate place for tears, not that Lucifer's been crying. In the face of the pacific ocean, which is so large as to inspire awe even in him, any saltwater that may trickle down his face when he thinks too hard becomes utterly inconsequential.

He's had a lot of firsts on this particular beach. Something is always drawing him back here, to the sand where he first landed nearly of a decade ago, fresh out of hell. This spot is where he lost his wings, twice, and not far from where his own mother left the universe. And it's where he first kissed the detective. Or rather, she kissed him. And then he ruined it, just like he's managed to do again.

Lucifer knows Chloe won't show - he's been here for hours already, he  _ knows _ it. But he also knows Linda is right, and if the detective doesn't want to see him, then bothering her will do nothing, because he will still be the devil. Perhaps the kindest thing he can do now is to quietly pack up his life in LA and remove himself from hers. He wipes his face clean with the sleeve of his jacket, too wrapped up to notice that stray grains of sand caught on his jacket are scratching up his cheek.

He stands, and dusts himself perfunctorily. He's never been one for goodbyes, having spent most of human history being nabbed by Amenadiel and dragged back to hell at the most random and inopportune times. And maybe that was a blessing, he thinks. Goodbye is painful.

Then he turns his back on the water, and the detective is there, looking resplendent at the top of the beach.

Lucifer stares at her. Chloe stares back, clutching tightly to the strap of her crossbody bag. She's here.

She's here, she's here, she's here.

Chloe takes a first step, and then another, ever so slowly. Whether it's due to trepidation or just the sand, Lucifer can't tell. She approaches until she's close enough to be heard and no more.

"Lucifer," she calls. It sounds like a list of syllables, completely unlike his name.

"Detective," answers Lucifer. It comes out as a whisper, and he has to repeat himself. "I didn't… I wasn't sure you'd come."

"Yeah, well, I uh… I promised Ella I would try to fix…" She gestures vaguely between them.

"Ah. Yes, I thought maybe you wouldn't want to see me, so I sent a messenger."

"Right."

There is awkward silence. It stretches. Chloe stares at him, and Lucifer welcomes the scrutiny, waiting for her to judge him. If she won't have him…. well, at least this dreadful uncertainty will be over. He won't think about the rest.

Chloe seems to find her nerve somewhere in his face. She clears her throat. "I brought questions. Can I ask you?"

"I would love nothing more." And he never lies. "We could sit? Only if you like," Lucifer suggests, gesturing to the sand.

And they do. Lucifer folds himself up, facing the water, propping his elbows up on his knees. Chloe leaves a foot of space between them and crosses her legs.

"Okay." She's shaking a bit, clutching her question sheet. "So… You really are… the devil?"

"I am the devil," Lucifer replies quietly.

"Okay," she says, and bites her lip. "And, um, what is that, exactly?"

"I suppose… the main thing is running hell."

"Which you do."

"I did. I'm retired."

Chloe nods like she's trying to convince herself she really understands what this means. But she doesn't. She doesn't understand  _ any _ of it. She bites her lip.

"Detective… Anything to assuage… how you're feeling. Ask me. Tell me. Yell at me, hell, give me a good slap, I deserve it."

Chloe looks over to him. Her partner.

"Anything?"

Lucifer is grave. "Anything."

She shivers.

"Okay." She consults her questions sheet. Suddenly, everything on it seems like unimportant minutia. Impulsively, she crumples it up, letting it fall to the sand. "Okay. So. You're… more powerful than I can even understand, probably… and yet, you're here."

Lucifer's eyes follow the crumpled sheet to the ground. "Yes."

"Everyday, you come to the precinct and you - you wear your fancy suits, and you bother Dan, and you help me solve crimes, and the department pays you a pittance, and I guess what I don't understand is why. Why you're here at all."

Lucifer's face falls. "Do you want me to go?"

Chloe shakes her head. "No, I mean like,  _ here _ , in LA. Don't you live in… um… hell?"

Ah. "Well, yes, I did. But a few years ago I decided I'd had about enough of the damn place, so I relocated."

"Oh." Chloe mulls that over. "Um, why?"

Lucifer glances at her, the a ghost of a smile on his face. "It's  _ hell _ , detective. I think it's quite self explanatory."

Her mouth makes the round O shape it does when she's really surprised. "So - so you don't like it. In hell."

"No, that  _ is _ kind of the point of the place."

"Right…"

They're quiet. The waves rush gently below them. The sand is dry between them and the water's edge; the tide must be coming in.

"I just… I just like it," Lucifer admits quietly. "I don't have a better explanation for you. Of why I'm here."

He glances over to Chloe, who is staring determinedly out over the water.

"I came only to escape where I'd been. I had no designs for you, or for anyone besides myself. But truthfully, I like where I've ended up very much. I like life on earth."

"Lucifer…"

She doesn't look at him, like she might lose her nerve to speak.

"This whole time, I thought you were just like, this really eccentric guy, or maybe delusional, or both… And every time you did something strange, that was how I explained it to myself. Like, I would think you were having a bad day and then leaning more into the whole, you know, persona, just to deal with whatever it was. But if that's literally  _ never _ been the case, then I just… I just don't know if I even really know you at all."

"Detective-"

"Wait, please," says Chloe, and she glances at him quickly and then away. Lucifer shuts his mouth so quickly that his teeth clack. "I know you're gonna say, you've always told me the truth. But I wasn't listening to it, Lucifer. I didn't know it  _ was _ the truth. You've probably told me a million things that would have mattered, like a lot, but I blew it off and forgot because I thought you were just making things up to - to cope! I mean, I knew you were in therapy and I thought it was  _ because _ of the whole, pretending to be the devil thing!"

Lucifer holds his tongue unhappily.

"Does - does Linda know?" Chloe asks.

"Yes. Since about a year after we met."

"And she doesn't help you with your delusions. She helps you with… devil problems?"

There is mirth to be found in the strangest of places, and Lucifer can't help but let out an amused little huff. "Yes," he says, trying his best to stay serious for the detective, "she helps me with my 'devil problems.'"

Chloe nods, finally mum.

"You should know, they're not very devilish these days. My… problems. They're quite earthly. Actually, the doctor often asks me to talk about you."

"So you're not, like, wheeling and dealing souls after work."

Lucifer looks at her sharply. "I swear to you, I would never deal in souls, nor  _ ever  _ attempt to damn one to - oh. That was a joke. Wasn't it."

Chloe smiles at him. Hesitantly, but it's there. He can't help but smile softly back. Then he swallows nervously - it seems like they've reached a point where she might really hear him.

"Detective, I owe you an apology."

"Oh?" she asks, looking at him curiously.

Lucifer turns his head to look out at the water again. He's aching for a drink, but if he doesn't speak now he might not get the words out ever.

"I- Ah. After I got to know you, and you accepted me as your partner, I did start to think... that I should tell you who I was. But then every time I had the opportunity, it became more difficult, because I was worried that it would change everything we'd already had. Which... is exactly what's happened, and in the worst possible way. Detective, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just left you to see me, and find out, on accident. I could have made it easier for you, and I regret, well, not doing that."

Linda was right, he thinks. He  _ was  _ afraid.

"Thank you, Lucifer," Chloe says. The waves roll, and the foot between them doesn't seem so wide anymore.

"So… are you okay?" Lucifer asks dubiously, and he looks back at her. Inspects her.

Chloe burrows her hands in the sand absentmindedly, letting grains wedge themselves under her nails. She grabs fistfulls, and the sand slowly drains through her fingers. "I don't know," she says. "I mean, I think so. But I don't know enough, really. At work I make judgements based on facts, or on evidence based theories. But I can't do that, with this. I'm just… so out of my element here. Like, I bet this is what my grandmother felt like when I tried to sign her up for an email address in like, 2002. She just had no concept of what it was or how it worked, even when I tried to explain it to her."

"Detective?"

But she doesn't elaborate.

Out over the water, the sun has begun to set. The clouds which earlier kept people away from their beach have all lit up, a sprawl of fiery orange on the horizon. It's been creeping upwards as they've talked, slowly coming aglow.

"It's beautiful," Chloe says. Lucifer hums in agreement. Pinks and purples join in the bouquet.

"...Detective?"

"Yes, Lucifer?"

He hopes dearly that Linda is right about how to approach this. He gestures broadly at the beach. "This was your home first. I wouldn't take it from you, if my presence would impose on you. But…"

"But?"

He steels himself. "Well, I'd very much like to stay."

"Are you - you're asking my permission?"

"Yes, I suppose I am."

"Lucifer, I'm not - I wouldn't try to kick you out of LA," says Chloe. "I-"

"I didn't mean LA."

Chloe's eyes widen with shock when she understands. She turns towards him, placing a hand on the sand between them. Reaching out. "I don't think I could handle it if you disappeared right now. I'd probably start wondering if I'd gone crazy."

"You'd actually prefer I stay?" he asks dubiously.

"I think I need you to, really."

He smiles, baldly pleased and he can barely believe it. "Okay, detective. As long as you desire it, you've my word that I'll stay."

Chloe glances down, at the space between them. It feels, once again, like much too far a distance. "I'm gonna-" she starts, but doesn't finish, just scoots up next to him. Tenderly, and very slowly, Lucifer raises his arm and lays it over her shoulders. The beach around them has become noticeably dim, and before them, the sky blooms. Despite the encroaching night, neither feels a chill.

"So. Life on earth, huh?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @oldwordz on tumblr :)


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